“If jarring Passions, like disgorging Etna,
Wage War intestine, and with Rage destroy
Then Mother Nature, instant at thy call
They lose their Fury, and subside in Peace:—
A sov’reign Balm thou pour’st into the Wounds
Of bleeding Love, and sooth’st the Heart-felt Pain.
“And thou, majestic Organ! taught by thee,
We raise our Thoughts on Fancy’s Wing,
Soaring beyond the darksome veil of Time
Up to the empyreal Heav’n, where God-head habits,